


Touch

by bibliotaphist



Series: home is where you make it [1]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angor is Claire's troll dad, But not today, Grooming, M/M, Multi, PTSD, Polyamory, Rare Pairings, a mega-rare pair and i'm a little surprised i didn't think of it sooner, one day i'll write something not angor-centric, or at least starting to be, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaphist/pseuds/bibliotaphist
Summary: He felt a tingle of suspicion as the historian moved toward him with an exaggerated air of casualty. Hesitating a moment, he considered simply vaulting out the door, but even as he thought it Blinky was right in front of him. Too close to jump, he thought ruefully. Before he could interrupt, Blinky spread his arms grandly.“You’ve found yourself a place, here in Trollmarket. Part of a community, nay, a brotherhood! Your home is here now, given you want it.” Angor listened impassively. Blinky cleared his throat, a sudden timidness rounding his shoulders. “But I have meant to, ahem, address your... appearance.”Angor, after centuries by himself, might need a helping hand getting back to "normal"; if normal is something he can hope to be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a canon divergence where Jim gives Angor back his ring rather than attempt to wear it. Angor, in turn, becomes the newest weird uncle of their little group.

Blinky’s library had a cozy feel to it. The dusty shelves of books insulated the room from the chill of the caverns that ran beneath Arcadia; it was a damn sight better than the sewers, at any rate. Angor sat on a low stool, reclining against the wall. At his side, Blinky flipped through a thick tome with feverish concentration. 

Angor flexed his hand, gazing into the sickly yellow glow emanating from the ring. He longed for his knife, something to carve, even for the Trollhunter and his friends to return from their _sh-ool_. At least then he could take his exercise teaching the human pups how to spar properly. This endless leisure made him restless.

Without much else to do, he’d taken to sitting in on Blinky during the endless hours of daylight. The scribe, at first, was visibly uncomfortable with the arrangement. He’d carefully arrange himself with his back wedged into a corner, with Angor in easy view. Blinky probably thought he was being subtle. He wasn’t. 

Over time, though, he seemed to grow used to Angor’s presence. Gradually, the maneuvering stopped, and Blinky was content to keep only two of his six eyes on him at once. They spoke little, and that suited Angor fine. 

The simple one, Aaarrrgghh, was often there as well. Not much for conversation either. Angor couldn’t decide whether he was always that way, or if he was holding a grudge over their past animosity. Looking at it objectively, Angor could hardly blame him. While he’d helped neutralize the Creeping Sun slowly devouring his body, he’d also been the one to stab him in the first place. 

The human children, however (perhaps sans the pudgy one), seemed to have accepted him, confident that ownership of his ring would placate him. Much to his surprise, they were right. 

He twisted his ring on his finger, lost in thought. That the Trollhunter had actually given it back to him, without demands or stipulations, had boggled him at first. Angor could have killed him then, and been rid of another nuisance. 

But he hadn’t, and that boggled him even more. 

“Angor?” The sound of his name made him start, chin jumping up from where it rested on his chest. “Did you hear me?” Blinky was watching him, hand poised in the midst of turning a page.

“What?”

Blinky licked his thumb, flipping through the yellowed pages of his book. “I was wondering,” his voice had a hesitant lilt to it. “If you might know where the Eyestone is hidden.” 

Angor crooked a brow at him. “Why should I know?” 

Blinky grumbled something under his breath, but glanced up at him sharply, as if wondering if he’d heard. “You know a great deal about dark magicks, things hidden in shadow. I supposed if anyone knew of it’s location, it would be you.” 

“Sorry to disappoint.” He wasn’t sorry at all, and didn’t care if Blinky knew it. He had no reason to care where the stone was. Even if the Trollhunter found them all, he was a _child_. Greater warriors than he had fallen to Gunmar. If he returned, the boy would be crushed, no matter how many pretty gems he had in his little toy amulet. “Seeking those stones is courting death. Even if I knew, your Trollhunter could perish seeking it out.”

“Do not underestimate Master Jim. He’s faced far greater odds before.” Blinky threw a chiding glance his way. “Including you.” Angor gave him a scowl before going back to twisting the ring. 

A thump and a crash had him leaping to his feet. Angor’s hand flew for his knife, but closed on empty air. Right. Disarmed. His eyes snapped to the entrance, poised to fly at the intruder.

“Wait!” Blinky shouted behind him.

Aaarrrgghh came tripping round the corner, stumbling on the pile of books he’d knocked over. He looked up at them sheepishly. “Sorry.” Slung on his shoulder was a bag, comically small against his bulk. 

Angor sighed in annoyance, letting his fists uncurl.

“Ah, Aaarrrgghh, excellent!” Blinky trundled around the stacks of books to Aaarrrgghh’s hulking shoulder. “I trust Rot Gut didn’t give you any trouble.” 

“Tried. Good _neg-ooh-tea-tater._ ” In one huge hand, he offered the tiny satchel. Blinky snatched it up, pawing through the contents. Angor could hear him muttering under his breath as he ticked off items on his fingers. Aaarrrgghh peered down over his shoulder. “Get enough?” 

“Splendid, Aaarrrgghh, this should be more than adequate!” In unison, they raised their heads to look at him, and Angor gave them an uneasy look. “Angor, a word?”

He felt a tingle of suspicion as the historian moved toward him with an exaggerated air of casualty. Hesitating a moment, he considered simply vaulting out the door, but even as he thought it, Blinky was right in front of him. Too close to jump, he thought ruefully. Before he could interrupt, Blinky spread his arms grandly.

“You’ve found yourself a place, here in Trollmarket. Part of a community, nay, a brotherhood! Your home is here now, given you want it.” Angor listened impassively. Blinky cleared his throat, a sudden timidness rounding his shoulders. “But I have meant to, ahem, address your... appearance.” 

Angor blinked. Bolder than he’d expected. 

Blinky continued warily. “It’s only that, I mean, first impressions are important, that is, to a society such as ours. Your demeanor can be, well-” 

“Look scary.” Aaarrrgghh interrupted. Blinky threw an irate glance over his shoulder. 

“Yes, to put it bluntly. Trollmarket may find it difficult to embrace you if you don’t meet certain… standards.” 

Angor let the silence hang for a long moment. Blinky’s smile lingered, transforming slowly to an uncomfortable grimace. Slowly, Angor leaned back against the desk behind him, crossing his arms. “And what,” he said slowly. “Would you suggest I do?” 

Blinky exhaled audibly through his nose. “Not to fear, we have a solution!” He hoisted the bag triumphantly. “Why, we’ll have you looking good as new in no time at all!” 

In a twinkling, he was shuffling through the bag. His four hands emerged, full of brushes and flat sculpting tools, bottles and jars, and sundry other items who’s uses he could only speculate. 

Angor tensed, suddenly realizing the scribe’s intentions. Blinky approached laden with tools, still talking cheerfully, but Angor couldn’t quite make out the words through the sudden wave of apprehension.

Holding himself tightly in place, Angor’s eyes followed Blinky until they couldn’t anymore. From behind him, he heard him dump his burden on the desk. “A little snip, a little elbow grease, why, you’ll look like a brand new troll.” Sprightly fingers suddenly danced across his shoulder to tug at an offending tree root. 

Angor’s fist was flying before he knew he was moving. Blinky flung himself backwards, saved by reflex alone. 

A deafening roar shook the room. Books flew across the room as they were heedlessly knocked aside. Angor dropped into a crouch an instant before Aaarrrgghh sprang. 

The huge troll skidded to a stop over Blinky, the light in his eyes burning. Angor wanted to spit back at them. He arched his back like a panther, hissing his own warning. Shreds of parchment and paper floated in the air around them.

Under Aaarrrgghh’s snarling, Blinky’s voice rose like the squawk of a bird. “Aaarrrgghh, stop! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves!”

With surprising speed, Blinky scrambled between the two combatants. Flinging up his four hands, he said rather breathlessly, “I apologize, Angor, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Frighten? Angor straightened indignantly. As if some runty little archivist could frighten him! Blinky continued, sensing danger. “That is, ahem, I didn’t mean to startle you! That’s what I meant. Startle.” 

Angor rose fluidly to his feet, stalking towards Blinky. “You could not _hope_ to frighten me.” His voice was scornful, but his posture was nonthreatening enough for Blinky to relax. Ignoring the still-bristling Aaarrrgghh, he loped past Blinky, picking up the forgotten satchel spilled onto the desk, forgoing conversation by shuffling through it idly. 

Inside the bag was a rich assortment of putties and clays, brushes, flat wooden shapers, delicate silver chisels and files, and a gleaming pair of fine shears. 

He drew out a slender file, admiring the way the firelight danced off the surface. Looking past it, he realized Blinky was watching his face intently, all four hands clasped in front of him. Angor blanched internally.

Self-consciousness wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with anymore, but it suddenly swamped him. It hadn’t occurred to him to keep after his appearance. The Pale Lady’s endless grudge didn’t leave much time for vanity. He fished out the delicate shears, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the varnished steel. He hadn’t realized he looked so… sickly. 

Blinky cleared his throat loudly, and Angor’s head jerked up. Beside Blinky, Aaarrrgghh looked dubious, but an air of expectancy hovered overhead. 

Angor felt caught out. His thoughts clashed loudly in his head, but he felt transfixed by their eyes. The Trollhunters offered him a home. Would it be wise to refuse their aid, no matter how strange? Could any polish and shine mask what he was; some soulless husk, a dead troll walking? 

His conflict must have shown on his face, because Blinky chuckled nervously. “Why don’t you just… consider it?” He bent to pick up a book Aaarrrgghh’s leap had spilled. His back exposed, Angor noted. Unafraid. “No rush. It’s up to you.” His smile was strained, but genuine.

The scribe continued straightening his books, stacking them in Aaarrrgghh’s wide hands. Angor, almost sheepishly, crouched to pick up a book. He let it thump onto the pile in Aaarrrgghh’s hands, purposely avoiding his eyes. When Aaarrrgghh didn’t immediately strike him, he picked up another, and another. 

Under Blinky’s direction, the library returned to its more familiar clutter, the books stacked into precariously high towers. Angor was holding the last pile steady for Aaarrrgghh when Blinky called out to them, waving the slender, glowing tablet the fleshbags used to talk on. “Here, leave the rest! The children are due back any minute.” 

Aaarrrgghh plodded along good-naturedly, but Angor remained. They were halfway out the door before Blinky ducked back in. “Are you coming?” 

“Coming?” Angor repeated, stupid in his surprise. 

“I’m sure Claire will be eager for a spar. She’s still mastering the use of your-” He blanched, wincing. “That is, the Shadow Staff.” 

“The fleshbag child wants to play warrior, does she?” Angor groused, but there was no venom in it. He loped up the stairs after them, and Blinky gave him a crooked smile. 

As the odd trio made their way to the Forge, Angor felt his mind slipping back to that dusky library, to the little leather bag. Blinky’s offer rattled in his mind. Though he navigated Trollmarket as gracefully as ever, his eyes were fixed inward, at the strange stirrings in his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angor has no practice being agreeable, and has apparently never heard of positive reinforcement.

The Trollhunter and his little human friends, for all their unlikely success on the battlefield, were woefully unprepared for him as an instructor. Angor had never been one to take things slow, and all the children wore marks from his ruthless brand of mentorship. Blinky didn’t approve, that much was clear, but the girl-child insisted they carry on. 

_As you wish,_ he thought nastily.

Claire was nimble, sliding under his blows with surprising speed. A fist hurtled towards her head and passed through empty air; her duck saved her by a hairsbreadth. But her dodge had cost her her equilibrium, and Angor swept her legs out from under her. She landed hard on her back, the air punched out of her by the stone floor. 

Angor growled, crouching beside her as she flopped over onto her belly, groaning. “I assumed, child,” He grit out scornfully. “When you said you wanted a teacher, you wouldn’t be wasting my time.” 

“As if that was a fair fight to begin with.” she sneered back at him. Rising on her skinned knees, she shook the grit out of her hair. “You only have, what, a few thousand years on me?” She wobbled slightly as she took her feet, but resumed her ready stance. “Not to mention a couple hundred pounds.” 

“There is no such thing as a fair fight.” Angor rose fluidly, stalking around her, waiting for an opening. “If you falter, you die.” 

Claire growled, fists raised, following him with her eyes. “An enemy will not wait for you to arm yourself. You must be able to hold them off,” she sprang to dash past him. He snatched her by the back of her shirt, hoisting her aloft kicking and thrashing. “Or be quick enough to evade them.” 

“Put me down!” Claire shrieked aloud, sounding more angry than frightened. He dropped her and she landed on all fours, puffed up like an angry cat, red-faced and breathing hard. “I asked you to teach me how to use the Staff! Not whatever this is!” 

“You cannot hope to master the Skathe-Hrun if you cannot even master your own body.” He spat back, voice laced with disgust. “No weak-willed human could hope to bear a weapon of such power.” 

“Hey!” Jim’s voice cut through the sudden stillness of the Forge. 

Angor looked over his shoulder to find the rest of the Trollhunter’s team staring at them. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh looked concerned, Draal wary. The Trollhunter and his chubby friend, however, looked furious. “Cut her some slack! She’s only starting out.” The sword in his hands glinted keenly. “We all were once.”

Angor rolled his eyes. “Weakness is a luxury you cannot afford, Hunter. You won’t always be there to protect them.” 

“He doesn’t need to protect me!” Claire rounded on him. “I can take care of myself!” 

“Claire-” Blinky began, but Angor stopped him short with a sharp jerk of his hand. 

“The staff may obey you,” he leaned in close to her face, sneering. “But you will destroy yourself chasing a power you could never wield. It will corrupt you, body and soul.” He turned on his heel, toward the door, tossing his hand at them dismissively. “Call me when you’re finished playfighting.” 

Claire’s clenched fists trembled with fury, red-faced and mouth twisted into an ugly grimace.

“Is that what happened to you?” Her voice shook as it bounced off the stone walls. “Did it rot you so badly that your soul could only survive in a _ring_?” A few nervous gasps rose from the rest of the Trollhunters.

Angor froze. His hands convulsed, and the ring gave an ephemeral pulse of light, as if in warning. 

“You dare,” He turned his head, his voice dangerously soft. “Speak things of me you don’t understand?” His walk was stilted as he approached her. “I am capable of things you could not even imagine, you little _wretch_.” He took a sick sort of pleasure in how pale the girl had gone, though to her credit, she didn’t cower in the face of his rage. 

Before he was within ten feet, Jim had sprung in front of her, sword drawn. The rest quickly clumped around them, Blinky taking Claire’s arm as Aaarrrgghh and Draal hovered protectively over them.

“Back off. Now.” Jim’s voice was even, his eyes steely. 

“That’s quite enough.” Blinky’s voice was brittle, but stern. “All of you.” Angor halted, though his eyes glinted keenly in the measured gloom of the Forge. 

With a firm hand, Blinky drew Claire away, Jim and Toby following. They all cast leery glances over their shoulders at him. “Master Jim, I think perhaps your friends should return home. Take the night off.” He put a hand on Jim’s shoulder, and another on Claire’s. His smile was fond, but Angor saw the tension in the lines of his jaw. 

Jim said something Angor couldn’t hear, and with one more withering glance in his direction, the children filed out into Trollmarket. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh walked them out, but as soon as they were out of earshot, Blinky whirled on him, his face thunderous. 

Angor felt a throb of what might have been nerves. He had no idea why. Blinky marching towards him as quickly at his short legs could carry him was far from an intimidating picture. Aaarrrgghh and Draal following up the rear, though, might be a problem.

Blinky pointed two angry index fingers at him. “And just what was that? You said you’d train the girl, not bait her like a bleeding Minotaur!” 

Angor crooked a brow impassively, schooling his emotions into a well-practiced mask. “I only told her the truth. You want me to lie to the fleshbag about her odds in a real battle?” He shrugged. “No one else was about to say anything.” 

Blinky looked fit to explode. “Those young ones have walked away from more battles than I care to recount. You do them all a disservice to treat them like they’re helpless!” 

“They are _children_!” Angor roared. What was Blinkous not understanding? If anything, he was saving those three from a terrible fate. They didn’t belong on a battlefield. They didn’t belong anywhere near him, or the Forge, or Trollmarket at all. “You pin your foolish hopes on one feeble boy and his friends! Whatever happens to them now is on your heads!” 

“Don’t pretend you care what happens to the Trollhunter.” Draal snarled. “He’s doing what he must. We all are.” 

“Keep your fantasies. They’ll die with your fleshbag brats.” Angor spat. Aaarrrgghh gave a rumble of warning, but Angor continued heedlessly. “Don’t expect me to feel guilty telling them so.” 

Blinky swatted the air with obvious disgust. “Devil take you and your magic, sorcerer! Claire will be fine on her own.” He strode away, with Aaarrrgghh and Draal in tow. They threw nasty looks over their shoulders at him, and he sneered back. 

As they vanished around the corner, he rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the anger pulsing through his veins. 

They were fools, he thought. Fools to close their eyes to the sheer hopelessness of their endeavor. They thought they could storm the Darklands, defeat Gunmar, rescue the baby, and be back in time for dinner? As if it were that easy? Ridiculous, all of them.

With one leap, he vaulted into the air. His claws sank into the stone wall as he scaled it hand over fist. It was a fools errand, and no amount of aid he gave them would make an ounce of difference. _Even if they did show promise._

What? He shook his head furiously. With a last powerful lunge, he sprang like a panther, catching the lip of the highest balcony and swinging up and over. 

The girl’s words rankled him. _Rotten_ , it tumbled in his mind. _Rotten to the very core._

He landed lightly, turning his feet back towards his home. As he made his winding way back to his small flat, he fumed. He refused to think about how a single snide remark from a human child could get under his skin so easily. Instead, he thought about how he was right; he was doing what no other troll seemed able: showing those children what they were up against, and how short they fell.

Even then, it was a hollow victory. 

For the next three days, Angor didn’t return to the Forge, or Blinky’s library. Bitterness hung thick over him, and he was perfectly prepared never to leave his gloomy flat again if it meant avoiding the Trollhunter and his gaggle of friends.

The problem was, there was nothing for him to do. He wasn’t waiting for a target, for a task, he was simply… waiting. No game to chase, no foes to slay. 

So instead, he thought. Thought endlessly, twisting his ring on his finger, a nervous habit that seemed to stick. He longed for his knife and a knot of wood, anything at all to relieve the tedium. 

Until, one day, he heard a knock on his door.

He sat up sharply from where he lay on his cot, giving the door a puzzled look. The neighbors? Not likely. The denizens of Trollmarket gave his dwelling a wide berth. He approached softly, trying to peer through the cracks of the slat door to see who stood on the other side. 

“Angor Rot? Are you there?” 

He stopped short. The girl? 

“Please, can you open the door? I just want to talk.” Her voice sounded tremulous. He stared at the door for a long minute, hand hovering over the handle. Steeling himself, he opened the door, glowering down his nose at her in a way he knew was intimidating. 

Claire stood alone, hands clasped in front of her. She looked at the floor rather than at him. “Uh, hey.” 

He scowled and said nothing.

“I’m really sorry about what I said.” It came out all in a breathless rush. “I just got so angry, I wasn’t thinking.” She still didn’t look at him. “And I… yeah. I’m sorry.” 

Angor was relieved she wasn’t looking him in the eye, because was struck dumb. His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t find the words to say anything. Sorry? 

Claire didn’t wait for his answer, and made to scurry away before he said suddenly, “I still don’t like you.” 

She froze, turning her big eyes back at him sheepishly. He hadn’t actually expected her to stop, he realized. So, they only stared at one another with the same bewildered expression. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no plan. So, he said the first words that came to mind.

“I will see you tomorrow. Don’t waste my time.” Before she even had time to look surprised, he shut the door. 

Her light footsteps hesitated a moment before retreating down the stairs, but as he hovered behind the door listening, he thought he heard her breathe softly, “Thank you.” 

When Angor entered the Forge for the first time in days, all motion seemed to stop. Everyone stood frozen mid-word, surprise stamped clearly on their faces. 

All but the girl. She bounced brightly over to him like she’d done it all her life. A strange, unfamiliar part of him was almost pleased by it; the rest of him was just unnerved. 

“Glad you came.” She stood in front of him, a little too close. “Are you ready?” 

Uneasily, he glanced around the room to avoid the intensity of her smile. He noticed the others were still staring. Claire glanced over her shoulder, following his gaze. Her smile faltered, and she gave them a stern look. 

Immediately, the rest of the pack went back to whatever they were doing. The Trollhunter and Blinky kept throwing concerned looks their way, the boy’s stance sloppy as he struggled to keep them in his line of sight. 

“So,” Claire’s voice was chipper to the point of forced. “What did you have in mind today?” 

He looked at her blankly. In mind? He wasn’t even sure why he’d come back. 

She gave a strained chuckle and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe we could, uh, pick up where we left off?” Pulling off her jacket, she dropped it to the ground. “I’ve been practicing.” Her knuckles, he noticed, were scraped raw. 

He considered for a moment, then relented. “Very well,” He let his body loosen, feet planted wide. “Try to strike me.” She nodded curtly, mimicking his stance, fists raised. 

They moved in a tight circle, Claire seeking an opening, Angor waiting for her attack. She feinted right, then swung hard towards his left. He batted her away easily, and she leapt back again, nimble as a deer. 

There was no anger in her face this time, only cold concentration. Lunging again, she swung wider. Her small fists punched in quick succession. Each one met empty air, but she didn’t seem discouraged.

By now, the rest of her friends were gathering in a loose semicircle around them. Jim and Toby were cheering. He didn’t notice any hostility in their faces. “You can do it, Claire!” Toby punched the air. Draal stood grinning, hand on hip. 

In his split second of distraction, Claire pounced. She dove, hitting the ground rolling and caught one of his feet in the crook of her own. He teetered, off kilter. Crouching on the ground, she pounced like a cat. 

Her shoulder hit him squarely in the ribs. His right foot left the ground, and he stumbled. He quickly caught himself, but it was with great surprise. Straightening, he turned to Claire. She was puffing, eyes round and bright. 

“I did it.” She sounded stunned, as if unsure it had actually happened.

Angor had trouble masking his surprise. Before he could stop it, a soft grating noise rose from somewhere deep in his chest. A laugh, perhaps the first in centuries, bubbled out of him. It was rusty, rough from disuse, but as genuine as it was surprising. 

The sound of it made Claire startle. Even as she looked at him, though, she cracked a grin. Angor quickly cleared his throat, trying to play it off, but he knew she’d heard.

There, surrounded by the Trollhunter’s laughing friends, Angor felt the tremulous threads of a peculiar bond being forged betwixt them. The girl might be foolish and naive, her friends possibly even more so, but they were brave and full of life, ready to face whatever may come. For a moment, felt like he might almost belong somewhere in this world of light and sentimentality.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angor, who has not had feelings for 500 years, suddenly gets slapped upside the head with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: this chapter WILL be NSFW
> 
> potential TWs for this chapter: self harm, panic attacks, anger issues

By the time the Trollhunter and his friends were finished, night had fallen on the world above. Claire was rumpled and filthy, but glowed with a pleasure that seemed to outstrip her relatively meager accomplishments of the day.

Angor sat, thoughtlessly sharpening on a whetstone the blade of a battered knife he’d found in the Forge’s armory. The familiar monotony of the work soothed him, and he let his eyes fall briefly out of focus, paying little attention to the children as they collected their things to leave. 

On their way out, the three said their goodbyes to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, and paused on their way past him. To his surprise, they all intoned, almost in unison, “Good night.” 

He froze in surprise, and looked at them a moment before nodding stiffly at them. The three gave him a look that was far closer to friendly than any they’d ever given him before, and continued on their way. He watched them as they raced each other, chattering and laughing, out of the Forge, with Draal ambling along behind them. On their way out, he heard Toby ask, “What did you say to him, Claire? He was less of a buttsnack this time.” 

He would have heard her response if Blinky hadn’t said, almost in his ear, “It was good of you to come back.” Angor suppressed his wince of surprise, but only just. _Blast this place,_ he thought. It was wearing on his senses to be surrounded by such constant noise. 

When he turned around, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh stood a few paces away, Blinky twiddling his fingers uncomfortably. His expression was sheepish, and he cleared his throat several times before saying, “Claire, ahem, mentioned her visit to you. It was kind of you to return.” 

“I am not kind.” Angor replied automatically.

“Still came back.” Aaarrrgghh pointed out. 

_Maybe_ , he thought, _but that doesn’t make me a friend._

“I, myself, may have been unnecessarily sharp with you.” Blinky continued begrudgingly. “I may not approve of your tutoring methods, but… your aid is appreciated.”

Angor grunted in acknowledgment, but hoped Blinky might take the hint and leave him be. The amount of goodwill and cheer being piloted towards him that evening was becoming exhausting. Then, Blinky put his two right hands on Angor’s arm. “If you’ve considered our offer, and found it agreeable, you are more than welcome in my library.” 

Stiffening, Angor glanced apprehensively at the hands on his shoulder, assessing his options. On one hand, he wasn’t sure he could trust the Trollhunters; who was to say what game they were playing? On the other… now that he had something to focus on beyond retrieving his soul, that tree root really did chafe. Aches and pains he’d carried for thousands of years without complaint suddenly seemed to return once that single great distraction was eliminated.

His face must have taken on an introspective cast, because Blinky and Aaarrrgghh shared a glance. “Erm, you can take longer to think it over. No rush at all.” Blinky gave his shoulder a friendly smack before they turned to leave. 

“I may,” Angor said coolly, halting them. “Stop by tonight.” He blew at an invisible fleck of dust on the blade. “If it strikes me.” 

If Blinky was surprised, he didn’t show it. He only smiled, and ducked his head in assent. “We will see you, then.”

When they left and he was alone, Angor loosened his hand around the knife; the tremor in it was so slight, most wouldn’t have seen it. That it was there at all was enough to make him angry. What had he just signed himself up for?

When he arrived, Blinky’s first order of business had been attacking the roots growing up his neck. 

The scene was a strange one; with a deftness that surprised him, Blinky had snipped through the creeping roots with the bright little shears, plucking at the fine hairs that had wound themselves into the cracks of his flesh. It took some coaxing to ease the stubborn filaments out, and every now and then he’d heard exasperated grumbles from over his shoulder. 

Aaarrrgghh, for his part, knew he couldn’t help much. His hands were massive and uncoordinated, not ideal for the task. Instead, he’d sat quietly, flipping through a stack of books. Angor hadn’t pegged Aaarrrgghh for a reader, but the Krubera seemed content enough.

He’d sat stiffly, elbows on his knees, back curved to give Blinky ample room. The heat of the librarian’s body against his back had taken a moment to adjust to. Every now and then, his shoulder would jump out of tension or a pinch of discomfort, though Blinky thankfully never commented on it. 

None of them had talked much. Occassionally, Blinky had asked for a new tool, and Angor fished it out of the bag to hand it over his shoulder. That Blinky hadn’t demanded his conversation was a blessed relief. 

All the same, it was… intimate. So much so that Angor could only stand an interminable hour before he cleared his throat pointedly. Blinky obligingly shuffled backwards to let him stand.

When Angor turned to face them, he’d realized he had no idea what to say. Thanks? An apology? He’d stood for an endless second, paralyzed with indecision. 

Finally, he settled on a brusque nod and a grunt. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh both nodded back, with uncomfortably knowing looks in their eyes. As he’d retreated from the library to his own humble quarters, he’d felt the weight of their eyes on his back. 

Angor lay on his cot, hand resting on the exposed patch of his shoulder that Blinky had cleared. The flesh there was calloused, after years of being rubbed raw by the tree roots. It’d stung when Blinky peeled them back, but now it only itched. 

Scratching absently, he stared at the ceiling. The touch of those many hands lingered on him, seeming to glow with warmth on the surface of his skin. He fancied if he looked, the tracks of Blinky’s hands might glow.

Sighing, he sank deeper into the flat mattress, the bed frame groaning under his weight. It had been a long, _long_ time since someone had touched him like that. 

There had been no timidity in Blinky’s hands as he’d worked. He was efficient, businesslike, but his touch hadn’t hurt. Almost dreamily, Angor traced the path Blinky had taken, down the side of his neck and over his shoulder, flesh tingling under the ministration. Thoughtlessly, his other hand drifted down his belly, resting on the jut of his hip. 

Shivering, he dragged his claws over the exposed skin, the raw sensation searing. Under his girding, his cock twitched in interest, legs falling open. Closing his eyes, he let his mind carry him back to that dim library, his thoughts supplying the missing dialogue, Blinky’s voice pouring filthy words into his ear.

_“To think,”_ Blinky breathed, _“you’d be so easy to wind up.”_ Angor gave a harsh gasp. 

Flattening his palm against his shoulder, he tried to retrace Blinky’s movements as he slid his hand under his clothes, giving the first tentative squeeze to his cock. Heat surged low in his belly, hips giving an aborted thrust when he finally took himself in hand. Panting, his legs trembled, tensed and fighting to hold himself in place. 

_“You’re soaked already.”_ His hand left his shoulder to cup his dripping crux. _“It must have been so long. Let us relieve you.”_

The floodgates burst, and he whimpered aloud into the empty room. He felt it all anew: every caress of Blinky’s hand, the warmth of his voice, the weight of Aaarrrgghh’s gaze. 

Gasping, his hand tightened spasmodically on his cock, and he choked back a ragged moan. _“That’s it.”_ Blinky’s voice drifted through his mind. _“Isn’t that better?”_

A white hot bolt of pleasure tore up his spine, turning his thoughts sluggish and murky. The thread of Blinky’s voice stuttered to a halt in his mind, but he grabbed for it desperately as he teetered over the edge. _“It’s alright. Let it go.”_

With a few more sharp tugs, it was over. Back arching off the bed, he spilled over his own hand with a snarl, dripping hot and sticky down the insides of his thighs. 

When the surge subsided, he crumpled. Hands laying loosely curled on his belly, his breath coiled from his gasping mouth in hot clouds, eyes half lidded and glassy. All he could do for a long minute was stare at the ceiling, waiting for the headiness of his climax to ebb. 

But even as the afterglow faded, hot shame bubbled in his belly. Stiffening, he lifted his sticky hands, sneering at them in disgust. Even when he tried to shut his eyes to the bitter words floating across his mind, they burned on the inside of his eyelids. The first time in hundreds, _thousands_ of years, that these urges had reared their heads, and it was for a pair of twitterpated fools, who cared for him like he was a stray dog they’d found on the street. 

It was pathetic. 

_He_ was pathetic. 

Somewhere deep inside, a flicker of rage ignited. Springing from the bed, he roared, claws lashing out blindly. Sparks flew as they struck stone, shearing away the wall in perfect grooves. Wildly, he cast around for his knife; it was nowhere to be seen, but he wouldn’t be deterred. With a single violent motion, he tore a shard of stone from the growing crack in his chest. 

Stabbing the serrated edge under the closest root at the base of his skull, he sawed furiously, ignoring the stabs of pain. The tough plant tore, root hairs burning as he dragged them out, some winding so deeply that they left blood in their wake, bits of his flesh pulled out along with them. 

Flinging the root to the ground, he set upon the next. By the end, a ragged pile lay at his feet, spattered with luminescent drops of blood from the newest hole in his breast. 

Chest heaving, he flung down the shard of stone. His shoulder burned, tiny beads of congealing blood sticking at the mouths of the fresh wounds. Spots danced in front of his eyes, turning his vision to pinpricks. 

Then, as suddenly as his rage had taken him, it ebbed away. As his vision cleared, he panted, shoulders heaving in an abrupt wave of exhaustion. Stumbling backwards, he sank onto the bed. Numbly, he watched a sluggish trickle of blood as it tracked down his arm. 

Tearing a strip of fabric from the bed, he pressed it against the open wound in his breast. With an expression of dull distaste, he scrutinized the pile of mangled roots, as if expecting them to spring to life. After a moment, his head lolled back against the wall, a bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

_Pathetic._

He didn’t return to Blinky’s library the next day, nor the day after. Patching himself together the best he could, he burned the pile of tree roots and did his best to mask his fit of rage. The fresh wounds would only prompt questions, ones he didn’t want to answer. Best just to let them chalk up his absence to a mercurial temper. 

Then, for the second time, there came a knocking at his door. Angor’s eyes jumped to the door tensely, and for a moment, he considered not answering it. Another timid rap came from the other side, and then a familiar voice called out to him. “Angor? Hello? Are you home?” 

A loud sniff followed Blinky’s voice. “Smell him. Was here.” 

“We’ve come to check in on you. Are you quite alright?” Angor stood with his hand extended, arrested by indecision. On the other side of the door, he heard Blinky say softly. “I’m not sure he’s in. Do you suppose he left it open?” The knob began to turn from the opposite side. 

Seizing the doorknob, he wrenched it open. Blinky was carried with it, yanked off his feet by the force of it. He gave a bark of surprise, arms flailing.

Neatly sidestepping him, Angor seized Blinky by his suspenders before his face hit the floor. Hoisting Blinky back to his feet, he couldn’t suppress his smirk. “Welcome, Trollhunters.” 

Blinky cleared his throat and readjusted his trousers. Aaarrrgghh snorted, barely stifling a laugh. Blinky elbowed him hard, and Aaarrrgghh coughed sheepishly. 

Turning back to Angor, Blinky did his level best to look dignified. “Aaarrrgghh and I were concerned; we haven’t seen hide nor hair of you in days. The children have been asking after you.” Angor didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Blinky searched his face before continuing. “Did something happen?” 

“I was unwell.” Angor replied shortly. He pressed his chest against the door frame, hoping it would hide the bandages he’d hastily slapped onto his wound. 

“Ah.” said Blinky. Aaarrrgghh looked less than convinced, but thankfully said nothing. Hoping that would be the end of it, Angor made to shut the door, but Blinky caught it with both left hands. “Are you quite recovered? If you’re ill, we have a magnificent apothecary, I’m sure we could find something--” 

Angor struggled to mask his desperation as he tried to hold the door closed against Blinky’s weight. Planting his right foot hard, he held the door. “It’s nothing.” He said, voice straining slightly as he braced himself. His wound throbbed against the exertion. 

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh were looking at him in bewilderment. “Well,” Blinky finally said, “If you say you’re alright--” He took his hands from the door, stepping backwards.

“Yes, fine.” With that, Angor shut the door in their faces. 

The shocked silence on the other side was deafening. Finally, the sound of footsteps and the pair’s baffled voices retreated down the stairs. Angor sagged in relief. 

He slumped back to bed, exhausted and sore. His wound hadn’t reopened, but the bandages needed changing. He wondered if they’d seen it. 

Musing to himself, he unwrapped the open crack in his chest. The wound was scabbed over, healing well. After a while, it would be indistinguishable from the rest. 

Dropping the soiled bandage to the ground, he leaned against the wall. The stone was cold and soothing against his back, but he wallowed in uncharacteristic melancholy. Why had they come to check on him, as if they knew him, as if they were _friends?_

Even as he brooded, he knew it was more than that. Blinky’s touch still haunted him, and the sound of Aaarrrgghh’s slow breathing, the hypnotic flicker of firelight on stone walls, the smell of old leather and glue. Hands, cool and relieving, easing him into believing he might have a place in this strange new world.

The memory was impossible to banish, and he hungered for it like he’d hungered for nothing else in centuries. Telling himself he could resist it was a lie, and he knew it.

Even as he sat there, he knew he’d return tomorrow. It mattered little what sense it made, he only knew he had to go back. A pitiful, nearly frenzied desire burned in his belly, demanded it from him. He would obey, regardless of the consequences. Allowing the wall to cradle him, he closed his eyes, and began to devise his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I tried to make sure there were fair warnings up there, but if you think something else should be noted, please let me know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angor is Blinky's sleep paralysis demon

It was about midday when Angor slunk back to Blinky’s study. He wondered if they’d been put off by their ungracious dismissal the other day. Would they brush him off the same way? Feeling like a reticent dog, he tried to come up with a story for his injuries that they might believe.

His step on the threshold of Blinky’s domicile was delicate, soundless. A force of habit, he moved silently, though the library appeared empty. He paused, looking around and sniffing curiously. The pair were nearby. 

As he ambled into the deeper recesses of the room, he glanced around curiously. He’d never been past the anterior chamber before, and he supposed this housed Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s living quarters. The sounds of Trollmarket were muffled here, and he found himself in a cozy hallway, leading into a sparsely lit set of rooms. The cool of the caverns was pleasant, a welcome reprieve from claustrophobic heat bathing the main squares.

Echoing off the curving walls, he heard a soft, repetitive grinding sound. Snoring. 

The sound quickly led him to the end of the corridor, a curtain hung across the entrance to the room. Gently brushing it aside, he looked in on Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, draped over each other in a tidy pile. Fast asleep, the pair breathed in unison, Aaarrrgghh snoring while Blinky snuffled softly. 

Cocking his head, Angor stood stock still, watching them from the door. His faint shadow stretched out before him, falling over the two sleeping trolls. 

With infinite care, he crept across the floor like a ghost. At the bedside, he hovered over the sleeping pair, studying them closely. Totally unguarded, defenseless. He marveled at the sheer confidence. Without noticing, he leaned in closer, inches away from Blinky’s sleeping face. As his breath ghosted over Blinky’s cheek, one of the six eyes opened sluggishly. 

“ASSASSIN! TREACHERY!” Blinky woke screaming, back smacking the wall. 

Angor sprang away in surprise, and Aaarrrgghh roared to life, throwing Blinky to the ground. Angor dropped, narrowly ducking the anvil-sized fist hurtling toward his head. Bellowing, Aaarrrgghh flailed, promptly slamming face-first into a wall as Angor scrambled for cover. 

Blinky hadn’t stopped shouting, but now it was because Aaarrrgghh was staggering around, dazed but still swinging. Angor considered hightailing it out of Trollmarket then and there, sunlight be damned. He crouched beside the mouth of the bedroom, chest heaving, embarrassment stinging like a brand. A stupid, reckless mistake, he berated himself. 

Inside, the crashing had stopped, but the shouting hadn’t. The curtain was ripped from its hooks, clutched in Aaarrrgghh’s massive fist. The huge troll was angrier than Angor had ever seen him, and Blinky was hot on his tail. Whirling furiously, they quickly spotted Angor where he crouched to their immediate left. 

Aaarrrgghh loomed high and livid above him, but before he could move, Blinky was rounding on him. Fingers waving in Angor’s face, Blinky roared. “You, you, you perfidious LOUT! You skulking, deplorable reprobate!” 

Angor held up his hands, backing away. His eyes darted from Blinky’s furious face to the narrow slit of corridor not blocked by Aaarrrgghh’s bulk. “Think you could murder us in our beds, eh?” Blinky continued. “Give me one good reason not to let Aaarrrgghh,” Aaarrrgghh’s fist struck the floor emphatically. “Throw you out on your ear right now!” 

The two stood in momentary silence, visibly fuming. Angor cleared his throat cautiously. “You’re mistaken.” 

A poor choice of words. Aaarrrgghh snarled and barreled past Blinky, lifting Angor off the ground by his wrist. “I only meant,” Angor continued quickly, “To apologize. For my… abruptness.” That seemed to give the pair pause. Slowly, Aaarrrgghh lowered Angor, letting his feet brush the ground, but not letting go. 

Arms crossed, Blinky leaned in, expression skeptical. “Oh, really? At this time of day? Rather an odd time for a visit.” 

Angor had no answer for that. His waking and sleeping hours were so blurred by the constant drudgery of hunting, fighting, tracking, seeking. That others had theirs so defined was still unfamiliar to him. “I... made a misjudgment.” 

Blinky seemed about to say something particularly cutting, but stopped short when his eyes landed on Angor’s chest. 

“You’re bleeding.” he said, surprised. 

Angor looked down, and found a sizable tract of glowing blood flowing sluggishly down his chest. He grunted in annoyance, grinding the palm of his free hand into the wound in an attempt to stem it. 

Aaarrrgghh dropped him and Angor landed lightly. Tearing a strip of burlap from his loincloth, he began to stuff it into the oozing crevice, hand cupped underneath to catch errant drops. To his surprise, Blinky briskly pushed his hands aside, pulling the dripping rag from the wound. 

“Don’t do that.” he snapped, dropping it to the floor. 

Aaarrrgghh reluctantly allowed Blinky to maneuver Angor out of the hall. Over his shoulder, Angor could feel the huge presence behind him, hovering warily. The pair ushered him into a different room, still dim and cool, furnished with comfortable looking rugs and yet more bookshelves. 

Blinky bustled around the room, opening cabinets and shuffling through drawers. Aaarrrgghh, by sheer force of presence, pressed him into the center of the room. His expression told him to stay put. Angor complied. 

“This is still a grievous intrusion, make no mistake,” Blinky threw a few things into the bowl in his hands. “If you make a habit of sneaking into our home, you’ll find us much less forgiving.” 

“Get crushed.” Aaarrrgghh added grimly. Blinky gestured at Angor’s arm and Aaarrrgghh took it in one meaty fist, lifting it to better expose the wound. Angor growled low in his throat, but Aaarrrgghh didn’t spare him a glance.

“Then why bother with,” he glanced at the open gash. “This?” 

Blinky eyed him over his shoulder, then gave a weary sigh. “Because we’re not fools.” Pouring a vial of powder and another of water into the bowl, he set to stirring it. “Great Gronka Morka, you gave me a fright, but if you’d wanted us dead, we wouldn’t have woken up.” 

“Still stupid.” Aaarrrgghh seemed marginally less angry now, though his grip didn’t falter. Blinky approached with the mortar, full of a thick, gray paste. 

“Now, hold still.” Angor gave no argument, and Blinky dipped two fingers into the soupy mixture, scooping up a generous glob. Angor hissed when he stuffed it into the open wound, packing it in firmly, then returning with a second. The librarian continued until the wound was sealed, filled out with the putty until the gap was nearly invisible. “There. Don’t fidget until it’s dry.” 

Angor expected Aaarrrgghh to release him, but he didn’t, instead looking at him thoughtfully. “Didn’t hit you. Where from?” 

Angor scowled, yanking his arm, to no avail. “It’s no concern of yours.” His acid voice would have cowed a lesser troll, but Aaarrrgghh was unimpressed. 

“In a fight?” Aaarrrgghh asked suspiciously, eyes darkening. 

Blinky looked up sharply. “Starting fights? By Deya’s grace, if you’re causing trouble--” 

“There was no fight.” Angor hissed, dread rising. He wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t want them to know what he’d done, but the idea was unbearable. 

“Where from?” Aaarrrgghh pressed angrily, fist tightening as Angor tried to wrench free. 

“Nowhere!” 

“Tell truth!” 

“I demand you explain yourself!”

“An _accident!_ ” Angor roared. His free hand clawed against Aaarrrgghh’s grip. “An accident, you thrice-damned fustilug, I did it myself, now let _go!_ ” 

Aaarrrgghh’s hand opened abruptly. Off balance, Angor careened sideways. His shoulder met an ancient wooden bookshelf, and it groaned under the impact. Overhead, a stack of books teetered wildy. They hung in a split second’s tense suspension, past the point of no return.

The crash was thunderous. Bricks of leather and parchment struck him glancing blows to the top of the head, bouncing when they struck the floor, scattering like hail. It was all he could do to weather the storm, the rain of books thumping him painfully about the shoulders.

Angor stood there, amongst the pile of scattered books, furious and mortified. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh gaped at him, frozen, hands still outstretched. Ducking his head, Angor clenched his fists, wanting to set the books and himself alight, along with this entire blasted cave.

Blinky cleared his throat, forcing Angor to lift his head. 

The historian approached, face set firmly. Angor wondered briefly if the scribe was going to hit him. Instead, Blinky spoke, his voice calm.

“It’s alright. Don’t mind the books.” his voice was almost coaxing. “We’re still not pleased with you, mind. Your entrance was unwelcome, and foolish, but...” he clasped his lower hands meditatively and spread his upper ones. “You wanted to apologize?” 

Angor blinked slowly, once, then twice. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh looked at him expectantly. Flailing for words, he closed around the first that came to mind.

“Yes, I-” he coughed, stalling. “I was too… brusque.” The apology he’d planned had been much more eloquent, but his rocky entrance had shaken it free of his mind. “Thank you.” he added suddenly, glancing back at the floor. “For looking in on me.” he sounded almost sheepish.

When he looked back, Blinky was giving him a strange look; not quite a smile, but curious, and almost fond. “That is kind of you. We, _ahem_ , were a bit surprised by your entrance.” Aaarrrgghh grumbled softly behind him, but Blinky continued. “Just... don’t make it a habit, if you please. Your hours are quite different from our own.” 

Angor was incredulous. That was it?

Blinky looked over his shoulder, gesturing with his hand for Aaarrrgghh to move aside. Aaarrrgghh sighed, but plodded out of the way of the entrance. Angor crossed the room quickly, keeping a wary eye on Aaarrrgghh as he passed. The Krubera gave him a hard look. Angor held his gaze, a challenge written on his face. 

Then, Aaarrrgghh’s stern face relaxed, dimpling with the ghost of a crooked smile. “Next time, knock first.” If he hadn’t known better, Angor might have thought he sounded amused. Squinting uncomfortably, he turned to go. 

“Angor,” Blinky’s voice stopped him short. “We’ll see you tomorrow evening.” Blinky’s voice invited no argument. 

“...As you wish.” Angor replied before plodding down the hall and out to the street.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit starts getting real.

The next several meetings at Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s home passed with the expected amount of awkward tension, but after a while it bled out to almost-bearable levels. 

The pair quickly noticed the hackjob he’d done on himself, but gracefully didn’t comment. Instead, Blinky gently filed away the ragged edges of the roots and filled the wounds with putty and powder. Aaarrrgghh, much to Angor’s surprise, took to patching the holes in his chest, adding layer after careful layer of clay, hiding away the exposed geodes. 

The two mercifully didn’t demand much small talk. Angor’s skill and taste for it had suffered in the last several hundred years, along with his tolerance for glug. The two (mostly Blinky) instead talked between themselves about nothing in particular: an approaching game of PyroBligst, or the marauding packs of stray gnomes on the corner of Glibbon and Karn’s, or the Trollhunter’s upcoming algebra test. It meant nothing to him, but he found himself sitting comfortably as Blinky and Aaarrrgghh worked caulk into his chips and scars. 

Despite himself, Angor began looking forward to these evenings. He passed his days with the Trollhunter and his circle, prodding the whelps into shape where he could. Much to his surprise, Claire was picking up the use of the Skathe-Hrun with startling ease. Half of him was annoyed, but the other half swelled with something approaching pride. Then, when the human younglings had made their way back to their own beds, he followed Blinky and Aaarrrgghh home to their cozy little library. 

The routine had taken hold before he knew it. He chastised himself endlessly for it, but it was no use; he was being domesticated, and had very little desire to fight it. 

That evening, he took his usual way to their meeting, passing the wall of televisions stacked against a stall. Usually playing static, one of them had flickered off, and in the black screen, he caught a chilling glimpse of something as he passed. Taking a sharp step backwards, he stared. 

The troll reflected was one he almost didn’t recognize-- Or, rather, one he did; his younger self gaped back at him, arrested in shock. The exhaustion around the eyes was much the same, but the ugly scars were patched, his skin smooth and clean. The stranger’s hand drifted to his chest, and traced the faint seam where a patch had dried in. 

The screen flashed back to life, startling him from his trance. A troll dame minding her stall gave him an odd look, and he beat a hasty retreat. 

As he walked, he brooded. The sight was painfully effecting. One fingers stroked absently at a filled-in scar, mind wandering as he tracked his well-worn route to the library. How long had it been, since he’d looked at himself with anything but faint revulsion? Since he’d looked at himself at _all?_

He mulled over it until he arrived at Blinky’s door. Immediately, he was greeted by the sounds of Blinky and Aaarrrgghh’s chattering, bouncing brightly off the walls. They rounded the corner just as he stepped inside, catching sight of him and halting their conversation. “Angor,” Blinky sounded cheerful. “Come in, come in. We just received word from Master Jim.” 

Blinky pulled up a chair behind the stool as Angor sank into his customary position. “He believes we might be on the trail of the Eyestone.” Angor sat, peering over his shoulder at the effusive Blinky. “We may be on the cusp of a breakthrough! After weeks of hunting...” 

Angor let his voice fade out, glancing at Aaarrrgghh. In his hand was one of those strange human communicators, and he tapped at it carefully. The delicacy of those huge fingers was oddly charming. 

Aaarrrgghh suddenly lifted his eyes, catching him staring. Angor immediately dropped his gaze, tensing slightly under the inquisitive look. 

Blinky didn’t notice, busy rummaging through the bag at his hip. He withdrew another jar, this one full of a faintly fragrant oil. When he popped the lid, Angor caught a whiff of it, feeling a pang of unease. What was _that _for?__

__Dipping his fingers into the jar, Blinky took a large dollop of oil. He slathered it on his hands, still chatting with Aaarrrgghh over Angor’s head. Then, without hesitation, he took Angor by the horns and _stroked.__ _

__The noise that came out of him was obscene. The moan bubbled up from somewhere in his belly, falling from his mouth like a stone. Behind him, Blinky froze._ _

__Angor didn’t dare move. Eyes fixed on the floor, his claws sank into the cushion beneath him, fingers curled in a rigor of dread. He felt their gazes boring into him. For an endless minute, no one spoke._ _

__Aaarrrgghh seemed to recover first. “Long time?” his voice was disarmingly relaxed. Angor didn’t know how to respond, too busy willing a hole to open up in floor and swallow him whole._ _

__Behind him, Blinky cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Angor flung himself from the chair. Making for the door, he mumbled a few confused apologies, about to flee into the dark when he felt a hand on his arm._ _

__He twitched under the touch, casting a startled look over his shoulder. Blinky met his eyes without a hint of judgment._ _

__“Please, stay.” His voice was mollifying, and Angor hated himself for how reassuring it felt. “If anyone knows what you’re feeling, thinking right now,” Blinky continued. “It is us.” Angor didn’t relax, but he didn’t keep walking, either. “Aaarrrgghh, you may know, was not always one of us.”_ _

__Behind them, Aaarrrgghh lumbered forward. “Was… bad.” His voice rumbled low in his chest, words measured, but with an undercurrent of feeling that Angor could only guess at. Aaarrrgghh didn’t make to touch him, but held his gaze firmly, his eyes reaching where words couldn’t. “But learning. You could learn, too.” He and Blinky shared a meaningful look. “We can teach.”_ _

__Angor didn’t know what to say. His eyes focused in on Blinky’s hand on his arm, a bright blot of color against his gray skin, like a fragment of blue sky breaking through dense clouds._ _

__“The choice is yours to make.” The intent in Blinky’s voice wrapped around him like a blanket. “We can only offer our experience. Just know we will do what we can to help you.”_ _

__The hand left his arm, and Angor felt bereft. His downcast face tipped back up cautiously, into the intent gazes that weighed on him. In his mind, he rolled his options around, examining each before picking up the next._ _

__Finally, Angor allowed the tension to bleed from his shoulders. With great deliberation, he turned and walked past Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, and sank back into his vacated seat. Daring a glance at his companions, he saw their surprised faces and felt a twinge of amusement. Leaning back, he said “Where were we?”_ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which shit finally gets real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been picking on this chapter since August, and now it's finally done in a way that satisfies me, at least for now. i desperately wanted to get this done before the end of the year, and TECHNICALLY i did it. cut it a little close, but it still counts. 
> 
> anyways NSFW ahead!

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh seemed to stir from their surprise, sharing a small, bemused smile. Without a word, they returned to their seats.

Angor sat stiffly on his stool, until he felt Blinky’s legs bracketing his shoulders. The soft expanse of the librarian’s belly swelled gently as he breathed, pressing against the crest of his horns. Blinky patiently allowed him to settle, a cool hand resting on his shoulder. Angor cautiously tipped his head back, daring a glance upwards. Blinky smiled warmly down at him.

“You’re awfully stiff,” The librarian sounded sympathetic. The heel of a small hand pressed between his shoulder blades, while another two squeezed into the meat of his neck. The delicious ache dragged a rumble from deep in Angor’s chest. Blinky hummed softly, a smile in his voice. “Better?”

“Mmm.” It came out sounding more like a sigh.

A touch to his knee made him jerk. Eyes opening, he found Aaarrrgghh. One big hand rested on his knee, and Aaarrrgghh gave him a comfortable nod. Behind him, Blinky pressed his shoulders, murmuring, “It’s alright.”

Eyes wary, Angor watched Aaarrrgghh closely. The massive hand on his knee didn’t move, but he suddenly leaned in closer. Angor recoiled, but Aaarrrgghh only passed over him to bunt foreheads with Blinky. Letting himself settle, Angor watched as they knocked horns, shaping a roof over him with their shoulders.

Without moving away, Blinky’s hand slid down his arm to take him by the wrist. Purposefully, he placed Angor’s hand on Aaarrrgghh’s huge shoulder, pressing it flat.

Fingers curling uncertainly into the soft mane, Angor waited. Aaarrrgghh sighed softly, eyes drifting closed, body lax and warm. The hand on his thigh drifted higher, to the crook of his hip. Angor twitched under the touch, but Aaarrrgghh didn’t seem to mind.

Blinky’s dexterous hands danced across his shoulders, brushing tender spots where roots once sprouted. Newly patched, they were sore, but abuzz with new sensation. Despite the sting, Angor rolled into the touch like an eager dog, sighing softly.

Distracted, he tangled his other hand into Aaarrrgghh’s mane. The Krubera gave a rumble, and Angor felt the warm mist of Aaarrrgghh’s breath against his cheek.

Without warning, a hot tongue rasped up the tendon of his exposed throat.

Angor almost choked on the moan that tore out of him. Claws sunk into Aaarrrgghh’s broad shoulders. Aaarrrgghh grunted, and Angor rasped, _“_ _Do that again.”_

Aaarrrgghh needed no further urging, lowering his head and dragging his tongue hard up his neck, to the crook of his jaw. Angor could feel the cheeky grin against his throat.

Then, Aaarrrgghh took a mouthful of flesh between his blunt tusks and _bit_.

Angor snarled, one heel scrapingacross the floor. Free hand flying to Aaarrrgghh’s ruff, he shoved the larger troll’s face deeper into the crook of his shoulder.

As Aaarrrgghh lavished attentionon his exposed throat, Blinky coiled his fingers through Angor’s, cradling his arms against his shoulders. Garnet eyes winked in the dim candlelight, watching his lover ravish Angor’s unresisting form.

“Lovely.” he breathed. Fingernails scratched the sensitive flesh at the base of his neck. Angor moaned.

At the same moment, Aaarrrgghh plucked at the ties on his faulds, one hand creeping between his legs to brush against his swelling cock.

Instinctively, he balked, hips jumping in surprise. He regretted it almost at once, when Aaarrrgghh glanced up at him searchingly. Angor made a desperate noise.

“Don’t stop.”

Aaarrrgghh shared a look with Blinky, but obeyed. His huge hands cradled Angor’s hips, lifting him nearly off the ground. Blinky’s hands stroked down his chest, meeting on his belly and looping comfortably around his neck.

“You’re sure?” He asked.

“Please,” Angor hated the desperate edge to his voice, but it didn’t stop him from pleading. “Keep, _ghn_ , keep going.” His free hand bore down on the bulge under his clothes, fighting the urge to rut into it.

A rumble vibrated through his whole body, but it was hard to tell whether it had come from Blinky or Aaarrrgghh.

The two pressed in on him, heat pouring off their bodies. Against his back, Angor felt a prod from the growing bulge between Blinky’s legs.

“You have a lovely voice,” Blinky sounded faintly breathless.

Under his clothes, Angor’s cock poured into Aaarrrggh’s hand, hot and dripping.

Heat rushed up his spine as thick fingers curled into a rough caress.Hips bucking,his head fell into Blinky’s lap, eyes screwed shut. Blinky’s hand smoothed over his forehead as Aaarrrgghh gave a long, firm stroke that had his heels skidding on the floor.

Aaarrrgghh hooked one knee over his arm, holding him open as he worked, pumping with obvious relish. His nose bunted Angor’s shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of Blinky’s hand carding through Aaarrrgghh’s mane.

He let himself go limp, sagging in their combined grip. Aaarrrgghh’s hand squeezed rhythmically, hot breath huffing against the crook of his neck. Time moved in a hazy blur, and he lost track of how long he lay cradled between them, content to let Blinky nibble delicately at his ear while Aaarrrggh plied him with practiced ease.

“You’re magnificent,” breathed Blinky, one hand dragging up his ribs. “Once Aaarrrggh’s done, I might spend the night working you open,” Angor flung up one arm to wrap around Blinky’s shoulder, dragging Blinky closer to bump foreheads. “Shall I take that as a yes?”

“Keep talking, and you may do whatever you want.”

Blinky and Aaarrrggh rumbled in time, and Angor caught their mirrored expressions, giddy and delighted. Aaarrrggh licked a wet stripe up the center of his chest.

“We prefer to take our time with things like this; sure you won’t be… overwhelmed?” Blinky’s voice dripped promise. Blunt claws scratched against a delicate spot at the base of his skull, Aaarrrggh giving a simultaneous upward drag.

With a spasm, a tight coil of heat sparked low in his belly, startling him with its urgency. His whole body tightened, a warning noise breaking from his throat. Claws scraping furrows into the floor, Angor struggled to collect himself enough for speech.

“Close, I’m close--” Aaarrrgghh cut him off by thumbinghis weeping slit, teasing the sensitive head with a rough finger. “If you keep going--”

“Go on,” Blinky’s voice poured hot into his ear, honey sweet. “Let it go, there’s a good lad,”

The words sent Angor tripping headlong into his climax. Aaarrrgghh’s hand didn’t falter as Angor writhed, not bothering to bite back his triumphant snarl. Overhead, he distantly heard Aaarrrgghh growl, pleasure written in every note. Back arching, Angor clutched his wrist, moving his meaty fist by brute force as it milked him dry.

When the fireworks receded, Angor slumped into Blinky’s welcoming lap. Four hands smoothed over his shoulders, his neck and cheeks, Blinky murmuring gentle ovations against his crown.

Aaarrrgghh’s hand withdrew, a long string of come breaking, dripping down his fingers. In the confusion, his loincloth had tangled around one leg, hanging crookedly off his hips. Angor’s chest heaved, eyes half lidded as he watched candlelight dance across the uneven ceiling. Even as the afterglow faded, he felt the insistent gnaw of need creeping through the heady fog.

“Please… again?” His voice didn’t sound like his; it was soft and broken. Rather than look them in the eye, he squinted at the floor. Blinky made a noise of surprise, hand stroking down his horn.

“Are you sure?”

Angor snarled in frustration. “ _Fuck me_ properly, or find me someone who will.”

“Is that any way to ask?” Blinky chided, but the suggestive lilt to his voice spoke of amusement. He curled his hand around Angor’s jaw, tilting his head back to look into his eyes. “Well, if you _insist_...” Aaarrrgghh huffed softly, hands sliding up the backs of his calves to his thighs. Angor growled, arching his body against Aaarrrgghh’s chest.

Blinky suddenly pushed him out of his lap. Angor made to protest, before Blinky strolled around him to sit at his side. The back of one hand trailed up his belly.

“How long has it been?” He asked casually, as if inquiring about the weather.

Angor hesitated before gritting out, “Long enough.”

Blinky gave a hum of consideration. Another hand joined the first, drifting aimlessly across his skin. Angor twitched, fingers twining into Aaarrrgghh’s mane. The Krubera watched thoughtfully.

“Be slow.” he finally intoned, and Blinky nodded in agreement.

“Not to worry,” his hand drifted lower, poised just above Angor’s already-filling cock. “You’ll tell us if it’s too much.” It was more a statement than a question. Angor grunted, willing him to cross the space between them.

“Yes, fine,”

“Good.” Blinky promptly stood, gesturing towards the hallway. “Come along, now.”

Angor must have looked baffled, because Blinky cocked his head in amusement.

“You didn’t think we’d take you right here on the floor, did you?” Aaarrrgghh took him by the hand, helping Angor to his feet. “You’ll be much more comfortable in here.”

Blinky vanished into the bedroom, the curtain rehung over the entrance. Angor followed on coltish legs, hoping the weakness in his knees wasn’t too obvious. Brushing aside the curtain, he saw Blinky fussing with the sheets on the low-slung bed. Noticing Angor eclipsing the faint light filtering through the doorway, he threw a glance over his shoulder, smiling sheepishly.

“Frightfully sorry, we weren’t expecting guests.” Conceding the sheets as a lost cause, he sat down, patting the bed beside him cheerfully.

Angor hesitated. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling of being a trespasser. It would have been simpler if they’d rolled him over and fucked him on the floor like an animal.

As if sensing his disquiet, Aaarrrgghh nudged him gently with his nose. Angor twitched, returning to himself.

“Alright?” Aaarrrgghh asked kindly. Angor’s throat clicked as he swallowed.

“Fine.” He didn’t trust himself to say more. Together, they crossed the room, where Blinky drew them down with welcoming hands.

With hands soft as soapstone, they splayed him out, stroking down the insides of his thighs. Hot breath huffed over his skin, Aaarrrgghh taking deep pulls of his scent as Blinky worked off their rumpled clothes.

With a hum of approval, Blinky clasped Angor’s cheek, knocking foreheads.

“You’re lovely.”

Angor choked out a disbelieving laugh, only to be cut off when Aaarrrgghh’s hand drifted to the crease of his thigh, past the jut of his cock, lower still. Angor held his breath. Finally, broad fingertips pressed against his dampening slit, nestled protectively between heavy lips.

Angor made a sharp noise, and Aaarrrgghh withdrew quickly, searching for signs of distress. Angor only shivered, palming himself and grinding down with the heel of his hand, trying to accustom himself to the novel sensation. Instinct snarled at the unfamiliar sensitivity, urging him to retreat, but the slowly-blossoming tolerance for contact was beginning to drown it out.

So lost in the delicious ebb and flow of pleasure, he jerked when Blinky stroked down his arm to take his wrist.

“Ssshh,” he soothed, sliding his hand between Angor’s legs to join his own. “We wouldn’t leave you hungry.”

Angor could smell the arousal pouring off the both of them, and feel it in the heat of their eyes. Privately, he was relieved he wasn’t alone. Blinky’s fingers teased his slit, taking his time, getting acquainted.

“I want you to tell me, Angor, if it’s too much.” Blinky sounded faintly stern, and Angor groaned in agreement. Anything, he’d say anything if Blinky would only _get on with it_.

Blinky seemed to sense his desperation, but his touches didn’t hasten. Instead, he let his palm drift up and down Angor’s belly, gaze admiring. Aaarrrgghh lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching raptly.

“I’m surprised by how agreeable you’re being, Angor,” Blinky intoned playfully. “I thought before that you were too cantankerous for your current position,”

The blunt nails on his hand dragged down Angor’s belly, tracing burning lines down to the curve of his inner thigh. “Perhaps you only needed a bit of motivation.”

The tips of two fingers dragged between the heavy, swollen lips of his slit, and Angor pressed into it, a ragged noise escaping his throat. Against his shoulder, he felt Aaarrrgghh’s deep rumble of approval.

“Would this have improved your temper sooner?” Blinky’s voice took on a teasing lilt, but Angor didn’t have the concentration to snap at him for it, because an index finger sank into him to the knuckle.

With a sputter of surprise, his claws sunk into the thin mattress. Angor’s first impulse was to lock up, shutting his legs against the intrusion, whole body tightening on reflex. There was no pain, but perhaps that was what had surprised him so much. The trolls over him gave twin noises of alarm, and his eyes snapped open to find them looking down at him in concern.

“Angor?” Blinky made to remove his hand, but Angor seized him by the wrist, holding him in place.

“Fine, I’m fine,” he insisted, a touch desperately. He fancied if they stopped now, he might actually die; drunk off the feeling of skin sliding against skin, shocked by how badly he’d missed being touched, somehow, anyhow, it didn’t matter where, just--

“Angor,” Blinky repeated, urgency coloring his tone. “You’re trembling.”

He heard the words, but for a moment couldn’t understand them; his mind was chugging several paces behind, so he only stared blankly as Blinky repeated himself. Finally, the meaning gelled, and he looked down in surprise to find his hands shaking so badly he couldn’t curl his fingers.

Not feeling quite attached to his body, Angor looked down at himself uncomprehendingly. Making a bewildered sound, he tried to prop himself up on one elbow. _Not this_ , he thought, _everything had been going so well!_

Self-awareness hadn’t returned enough yet for embarrassment, but it was fast approaching. Clumsy and confused, Angor tried to marshal his body back under control, but to no avail. The shaking hadn’t subsided, though the numbness in his feet was receding. Curious, he hadn’t noticed when exactly his extremities had started to lose feeling.

Over him, Blinky and Aaarrrgghh shared puzzled looks. Blinky seemed at a loss, but Aaarrrgghh’s sympathetic expression spoke volumes. Angor jumped at a nose pressing his shoulder. He made to push Aaarrrgghh away, but a huge arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Fight or flight instincts screamed to life, and he dug his claws into the arm around him.

“What are you--?” A knee came up defensively, making to strike.But then, Aaarrrgghh turned him in towards his chest, pressing him into the mattress like a weight. The squeeze was strangely comforting. Then, like a distant roll of thunder, a sound began deep in Aaarrrgghh’s chest, steadily growing louder. The huge troll holding him was purring, the vibration settling deep within Angor’s core, slowly quieting his shakes.

Angor could feel Blinky watching them, curious and hesitant. Then, slowly, he laid down against Angor’s back, his stout body molding against him as Aaarrrgghh made room in his arms for both. Sandwiched between the two, Angor could hardly find room to draw breath, but the pressure felt somehow right; nothing like the press of heavy rubble, trapping him in the dark for centuries.

Against his back, he felt the raspy beginnings of Blinky’s own purr, low in his belly. The tension in his limbs was slowly releasing, eased unconsciously by the feeling of two softly breathing bodies pressing against him.

Gradually, he found his mind clearing, the strange fog lifting from his vision. Slowly, Angor shifted in their grip. Aaarrrgghh and Blinky opened their eyes, examining him keenly, and he felt like a bug under a sheet of glass. Aaarrrgghh lifted one arm, and Angor sat up quickly, palm pressed to his forehead.

“I, ah,” He felt their eyes scorching into his back. “I’m… sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Blinky replied. Any other time, Angor would’ve snapped at him for skirting the obvious, but as it was, he simply tossed a sour look over his shoulder.

“Oh, that!” Blinky averted his eyes, running a hand through his wiry hair. “Angor, that was nothing to apologize for. Quite a natural reaction, really--”

“Was same way.” Aaarrrgghh broke through Blinky’s ramble so suddenly, it stopped them both dead.

Angor peered at him. “What?”

“When I… left.” Aaarrrgghh spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “Left Gunmar, took long time.”

Angor found himself leaning in slightly, intrigued by this new honesty. “A long time to what?”

“Be close,” Aaarrrgghh leaned forward to knock horns with him, easy and affectionate. “But gets easier.”

Half stunned, Angor only looked at him, suddenly realizing how green Aaarrrgghh’s eyes were; deep and earthy, like chips of serpentine.

Blinky looked at Aaarrrgghh with an expression of perfect adulation, which might have been funny had it not been so genuine. Angor cocked his head, a half-smile creasing his eyes. Blinky seemed to notice, quickly straightening.

“At any rate, Angor, we shan’t hold it against you.” Blinky offered him a pleasant smile. “You’re our friend, after all.”

Angor’s heart made a peculiar hop-skip, turning over in his chest; he hoped they hadn’t noticed. Ducking his head, he gave a noncommittal grumble.

“If you’re amenable, you could stay here today?” Blinky prompted gently. “No catch; if you don’t want to be alone--”

“Alright.” The swiftness of Angor’s agreement surprised them both. “Just for one day.”

They smiled at him, at once easy and familiar. Angor turned his face away to hide the upturn in the corner of his mouth, feeling the tension in the room evaporate. With a prod to Aaarrrgghh’s belly that was almost playful, he lay on his back, stretching out alongside them.

Gradually, the rustle of his restless thoughts died down, and he began to drift off. For once, it was with company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's the possibility that i'll come back to this at some point in the future and add a sort of bonus chapter, with more Nasty, but it'd probably be at my leisure
> 
> thanks for reading through this odd little rarepair story, i'm super attached to it, and hopefully i'll have the chance to write more about it later on!


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